


An Unexpected Dinner Guest

by SmashSlam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Dark, Death, Extreme, Gang Rape, Hard vore, Horror, Leviathans, M/M, Monster sex, Monsters, Multi, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual, Oral, Rape, Rimming, Season 7 canon divergent, Torture, Violence, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-01 22:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmashSlam/pseuds/SmashSlam
Summary: Set in a canon divergence from the start of Supernatural Season 7, following the release of the Leviathans into the human population.Bobby has started scouring his collection for means of destroying the newly unleashed monsters, but find precious little lore related to them. While the boys range further out, he himself takes up a case near to Sioux Falls to try to get a hold of any lead he can, no matter how tenuous. However, a stroke of bad luck during his investigation lands him in a terrible predicament, with little to no chance of rescue.





	1. Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork and Sketches at [my FA](https://www.furaffinity.net/user/smashslam/)  
> Also taking suggestions/requests/comments at Smashslam@gmail.com

According to the desk sergeant, the air conditioning in the Dell Rapids police department had broken down just the day prior. The main floor was sweltering- the  air felt thick and heavy- heat pressing into the building from the blistering summer’s day outside. A few decades-old standing fans helped to keep things bearable at least- their slow, alternating droning filtering over the usual, quiet white noise of office busywork. The heat seemed to have slowed everyone’s pace to a crawl- but fortunately there wasn’t much serious policing to do in such a quiet town.

As such, a sudden string of ominous disappearances stood out as quite the oddity in the local news cycle. So far there were only four missing persons- not necessarily enough to suggest monsters lurking about. However, given the state of the things in general, it was probably wiser to err on the side of caution.

The world was on the brink of destruction, yet again, and only a handful of hunters even knew it. By this point however, it all felt like business as usual. The unleashing of the Leviathans into the world via the state water supply was probably the fourth cataclysmic event that Bobby Singer had faced down- depending on how one decided to keep count. Though he was never one for war stories or boasting (especially since the Winchester Boys had done most of the heavy lifting, for good and for ill…) he’d done his part in keeping the world from descending into a barren, monster filled hellscape. That said, things were particularly bad this time- what with Cas gone, Sam hallucinating, and Dean near his breaking point. As hopeless as things seemed though, he himself was always stubborn enough to see it all through to the end. So far, that hardheadedness, as well as a healthy helping of luck, had kept him in one piece.

With very little lore to work with, the trio had hit the road. Bobby had started investigating leads closer to home. The boys were ranging farther, all three just trying to pin down how far the Leviathans were spreading, and what their intentions were. It all felt familiar, not unlike back when the Hell’s Gate had opened and let thousands of demons out into the world. That time though, there had been means of fighting back- holy water, devil’s traps, exorcisms, Ruby’s knife… Yet, even after spending the last few days and nights buried in his books- Bobby hadn’t found any ways of even harming a Leviathan, much less killing one. It seemed God had had good reason indeed to lock them up in Purgatory… All that the hunters had discovered so far was that the creatures bled black slime, could take human form, and had a nasty proclivity for eating people alive.

Bobby stood up from the bench he’d been perched on, stretching his arms over his head then wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was getting too old for this crap. When he’d started The Job, he’d never guessed he’d make it to the ripe age of 62. Even if he had, he certainly wouldn’t imagine that he’d still be out on the frontlines as a hunter in his golden years.

Well, for the moment he wasn’t one- today he’d punched in as FBI Field Agent “John Maclane”, in town on official business. He was going through his usual routine of investigating cases. The first step was usually to stop by the local police department for any leads or clues. Flaunting his masterfully forged fake credentials, he’d be able to get access to evidence on open files. From there he’d usually be able to get a sense of whether or not the situation was a monster lurking in the shadows, or just a garden variety psychopath. After checking in with the desk sergeant, he’d made his way to the reception area and plunked himself down on one of the old, battered benches while he waited to meet the sheriff.

As usual, the disguise and deception schtick called for him to hit the town in his Sunday best- a full grey suit with a maroon tie, fake badge and documentation, and pair of polished wingtips. Even on temperate days it wasn’t the most comfortable getup- and on this day he was sweating like a pig. Thankfully he was well groomed enough that he didn’t smell like one. His thick, brown beard and mustache were trimmed down a little more than usual- what was left of his hair neatly combed and slicked down. He almost felt naked without his usual trucker hat- every now and then reaching up to adjust the bill as if it were there. Aside from that he’d given his face a good scrub in the morning, leaving him a bit pinker than usual- a stark contrast to his steely blue eyes.

He tapped his foot impatiently- eager to get something to work with so he could spend the rest of the day researching in his motel room with the AC running full blast- preferrably in just his underwear. The minutes dragged on slowly, and before long he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Between his lack of sleep and the oppressive heat, he couldn’t help but start to doze off. His hazy gaze snapped to attention as he heard Sheriff Taylor’s voice from the other end of the office.

“Agent Maclane? Glad to meet you, I’m Jim Taylor.” When they shook hands, his grip was tight and strong, fitting of his position and stature. He was a big, tall guy- not quite Sam’s height but certainly taller than Bobby. His build was average, though the thickness of his arms suggested he probably lifted weights. He seemed to be in his 50’s, his typical cop looks further set off by his clean-cut short brown hair and thick mustache. His voice was deep, carrying a bit of a country twang.

“Sorry to keep you waitin’. Arguin’ budget with the city council. You’d think in this small of a town we’d all be on cozier terms- never figure this place to be so _dog-eat-dog_. Been practically beggin’ for funds to hire a few more deputies- no luck. I’ll stop there though- you’re not here to hear me gripe about my human resources problem. You’re here about those disappearances, right? Well, as luck would have it we got ourselves a person of interest waitin’ in the interrogation room- you’re more than welcome to tag along while I question her.”

Bobby raised a brow. “Sure thing Sheriff, though of course I’d like my own interview afterwards, if that ain’t a problem.” Inwardly he tensed as the Sheriff beckoned for him to follow.

If that woman really was involved with the disappearances, there was a chance she might be a Leviathan herself. After all, from what he’d been able to gather about the creatures, they didn’t have much to fear from local law enforcement. Perhaps she wanted to get caught- brought in- and given an opportunity to get a foothold in the police department by taking one of the officers. After that she could call in others of her kind and it’d just be a matter of time before the whole force got taken over. Still, even if she was one of the big mouths, Bobby was stumped as to how he’d force her to reveal herself. If he somehow managed that, he didn’t have much idea what to do with her. As he followed the Sheriff through the office, he glanced quickly to the exits- mentally plotting his course if he’d need to tear ass out of the building with a monster (literally) nipping at his heels.

“Of course, Mr. Maclane. Just let me know if you need anything for your investigation. We don’t get Feds out here too often, but I’m more than willin’ to help out. Hopin’ to get this mess sorted as soon as possible- quiet place like this doesn’t need all this fuss and media attention.” Before long he reached the door to the interrogation room, smiling as he held the door open and gestured for Bobby go in first.

Straightening up and readying an official looking glare to stare down his suspect, Bobby strode in and locked his eyes at the empty chair across the desk of the interrogation room. His glare faltered. Nobody else was in the room. He stepped in further and checked the corners. The only other person he saw was his own reflection in the one-way mirror. Something wasn’t right- this couldn’t just be the wrong room- the station was too small for that kind of mix-up. Bobby’s hackles stood on end, a horrible, sinking feeling welling up in the pit of his stomach.  Turning about, he abruptly started for the door again, his hand already on the handle of his holstered revolver.

Bobby’s eyes widened as he heard a sudden, loud, meaty thud. Before he’d been able to register what was happening, Sheriff Taylor’s fist had jammed itself into his gut- the force lifting him off his feet before he crumpled, winded and stunned. Instinctively he curled up, then struggled to scuttle away. Meanwhile the Sheriff’s footsteps circled him slowly- almost as if he was impatient for the hunter to come back to his senses. It had all happened so fast… Bobby was no slouch as a brawler- but monsters had a nasty habit of being inhumanly strong. After a few generous seconds, he managed to drag himself up into a hunched standing position. Just as he made to bolt for the door- the Sheriff’s fist lashed out again, this time catching Bobby full in the jaw- forcing a gout of blood, spittle, and one of his teeth to go flying off over the interrogation table. After that things went black.

 


	2. Table Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding that the town Sheriff isn't what he seems, Bobby has tried to make a hasty escape. Without much chance for escape, he resigns himself to his fate- unafraid to die. Unfortunately the monsters have additional plans for him, as well as any other hunters who might try to resist the Leviathans' conquest.

When Bobby came to, he was flat on his back. His head pounded- vision still sparking with stars and lights at odd corners. A dried rivulet of blood ran down from his lip and into the whiskers at his chin. He didn’t seem to be on the floor, his legs hanging off whatever he was lying down on. His arms were stretched uncomfortably over his head- but he felt no cuffs or shackles- just the weight of a strong pair of hands pressing down on his wrists. Craning his head to look behind him, his blood ran cold when he saw the beige of an officer’s uniform. Apart from that, the hanging fluorescent light caught his eye. He was in still in the interrogation room, laid out lengthwise on the metal table.

“Agent John Maclane. Really? Do these dumbass aliases actually work? Taking over this planet might be even easier than the boss said it’d be.” Sheriff Taylor came into Bobby’s line of sight from over the right side of the table. His arms were crossed, mouth curled in a disdainful frown. He seemed disappointed.

Bobby grunted hard as he gave his wrists a good yank- struggling and writhing until yet another deputy stepped forward from the corner of the room and laid hands on his shoulders to brace him still. The Sheriff tapped his foot as he waited for the hunter to tire himself out. When he found he was making little headway with his struggling, Bobby called out, “H-help!! Somebody out there, help me!” With any luck, he might get the attention of a human officer- who’d certainly be confused to see a visiting FBI agent getting roughed up by the Sheriff himself. One human wouldn’t make much of a difference in a fight, but the need to keep up appearances might at least keep his captors from getting too bitey- for the time being at least. 

The Sheriff clicked his tongue. “Save your breath old man. The only concern the officers out there have for you is whether or not you’re fat enough that there’ll be leftovers when we’re done here.” He shrugged. “I do have to give you credit where credit is due though. I did a little poking around in that brain of yours while you were out… Good instincts, thinkin’ we’d infiltrate the police station and take everyone over. Only hitch is we wouldn’t need a random suspect to get in. ‘Specially when a certain Sheriff Taylor was unlucky enough to happen to be getting a drink from the sink at 2 am- just as I was passing through the pipes. He never knew what hit him. Neither did his poor wife.   _Sweet_ little thing she was.” He grinned- that small-town cheerfulness curling into a more suitably wicked flash of oddly pointed teeth. “Of course, that was weeks ago. Small department like this- ain’t hard to swap out every officer one by one. So, now that you know you don’t stand a chance of getting outta here alive- onto the task at hand.” Reaching down, he patted Bobby’s sides and hips, finding then retrieving his phone, wallet and revolver. He set the items on one of the chairs along the wall. “Capturing an FBI agent would’ve been damn useful- but we recognized you right off the bat. You see, we all got a good look at you and your boys while we were riding along in your angel friend, _Bobby_. So kind of you to come to us- since we were about to come to you. We know all about you, partner- and today, you’re gonna get to know some of us _real wel- “_

“For Chrissakes, shut up.” Bobby growled and cut the Sheriff off before he could continue. “Stop dancing around the point like you scare me. I knew I’d pull the short straw one of these days, I ain’t scared and I sure as hell ain’t impressed. Let’s get this over with.” His voice wavered at the end- but adrenaline had steeled his nerve. Dying in his boots wasn’t too bad a way to go- and he wasn’t about to go out like a simpering coward.

“That bravado really does get to your head, don’t it?” The Sheriff’s head turned to the one-way mirror, then up to the security camera up in the corner of the ceiling. “My little show ain’t just for you. It’s also for your knucklehead hunter friends, and your precious boys. They’re gonna get to see in full, uncut, HD detail what’ll happen to them if they keep up this pathetic little resistance. Now don’t you fret Bobby, you’ll still get your bloody end. Figure they’ll see what we do to you, and then just rather lay down an die the easy way- just like the rest of your species will.” The Sheriff flashed his teeth again, his footsteps clacking ominously as he walked to the end of the table.

Bobby didn’t have any more sass or bravery to quip- his eyes widening as he turned to the one-way mirror. His hackles rose as he felt he was being watched by yet more of his captors and he abruptly turned his head away. There could be an entire damned camera crew back there for all he knew. The Sheriff faced him down , taking a moment to roll up the sleeves of his uniform shirt. Bobby felt his stomach jumping up into his throat as he braced himself to be tortured. His nerve faltered- if his fellow hunters would have to watch this- he hoped to God he could be brave to the end. He had his pride- but he was helpless. He gnashed his teeth bitterly, wondering how long he’d be able to keep from screaming. Panic started to well up in his throat when he thought of the boys having to watch him die. That last notion sent a jolt through his body. He lurched forward as far as he could and pulled his arms hard, twisting and struggling. Behind him, the deputies holding him down simply leaned in, using more of their weight to keep the hunter still. It was then that Sheriff made his move. Bobby felt the strong arms that had decked him come in again- causing him to flinch, bracing for the impact.

The blow didn’t come. Instead, the Sheriff yanked Bobby’s tie to the side, then worked in further to push his fingers between the buttons of his shirt, each hand grabbing up a wad of fabric before wrenching back. The fabric tore as easily as paper, buttons popping off and clattering to the floor. With nearly bruising force, those hands shoved downwards to Bobby’s waist, pushing his undershirt up to his collarbone. The old hunter’s bared torso glistened with sweat under the harsh fluorescent light of the interrogation room- his hairy, stocky frame heaving with his panicked breath. The Sheriff swallowed in anticipation as he ran his palms through Bobby’s wispy chest hair- kneading the soft fatty flesh to feel up the firmer muscle beneath. He licked his lips as he surveyed his prey. Bobby certainly wasn’t a GQ cover model, but he was still strong. Age had gifted him a bit of softness at his chest and around his middle- but there was still a satisfying solidity to his body. Taylor lingered there like that- looming just inches over the helpless man.

Bobby kept his eyes screwed shut, head turned to the side, looking away. The seconds stretched on as he tried to steel himself- expecting teeth to start tearing open his gut at any moment. He felt the Sheriff’s breath spilling over his trembling flesh. He could hear the quiet sounds of Taylor’s mouth opening- his tongue still flicking over his own lips and teeth. The monster continued to bide his time, waiting and savoring the hunter’s instinctive fear- picking out the pang of the man’s sweat under the scents of cheap soap and deodorant. Bobby knew that behind that façade of a friendly midwestern gent- there was a beartrap of knife-like teeth and a horrible lashing tongue, all that mess jutting out from a horrifically cavernous mouth. At any moment, that kindly face was going to stretch and warp to its true shape so that the beast could feed. Still looking away, he gasped as he felt the Sheriff’s head lunge down at the right side of his chest, human sized teeth and tongue pressing down onto his right nipple. The Sheriff smacked his lips lecherously as he licked at the firm nub- teasing it with his canines. His tongue stroked and lapped teasingly over the sensitive flesh, circling the firming bud in slow, sensual arcs- the pink flesh glistening under a layer of saliva. Bobby twisted and squirmed- still certain that ripping and tearing would come next- but the Sheriff just kept licking and sucking.

“W-what…What the HELL…!?”

A hot, reddish hue flushed Bobby’s cheeks- his panicked, enraged eyes straining to look down. The Sheriff’s weight was pressing down on him and trapping him even more than the captor holding his arms. The heat of the office had left Bobby miserable and sweating- but pressed down into the table by Taylor’s large body, it was becoming unbearable.

Bobby began twisting and writhing to try to get away, but that only seemed to encourage Taylor further. The monster growled deeply, his mouth working at the hunter’s chest with a bestial, possessive ferocity. Lips and tongue still working on the hunter’s right nipple, he brought up his left hand to take the other between his thumb and forefinger. Those callused digits pinched and stroked- nails turning inwards and jabbing- pulling the flesh in a painful, momentary twist before returning to petting and rolling.

The old hunter had been thoroughly caught off guard- completely at the monster’s mercy as he thrashed on the table. He panted and gasped, his chest aflame with sensation- the front of his pants tenting as he was forced to erection- his hardness shamefully jabbing into the Sherriff’s hip. Bobby’s beard frayed as he clenched his teeth- stubbornly trying to hold back his body’s reactions- struggling to swallow down any hint of a moan.

After a few minutes of teasing, licking, pinching, and twisting- the Sheriff pulled away. A glistening thread of saliva momentarily stretched from Bobby’s chest hair to his mustache. “Now don’t you worry Bobby. I know what you’re waiting for. That part will hurt- it’ll hurt quite a bit. But we’re not there yet. Fancy dinners always start with an appetizer course, right?” Taylor’s hands dipped down, and Bobby felt his pants getting violently wrenched. The monster’s grip easily yanked his belt buckle free- dragging the suit pants down the hunter’s hairy legs. He pried off each of Bobby’s shoes and carelessly tossed them away- leaving Bobby in his torn shirt, tie, underwear and black socks. Taylor leaned back-apparently enjoying the view once more. Not only that, but he made sure that he wasn’t blocking the view from the one-way mirror.

Bobby blew hot breath from his nostrils- chest heaving, face stricken in a mixture of fear, disbelief, and frustrated helplessness. A wave of disgust and embarrassment jolted through him as he realized what had just been recorded- his already reddened cheeks flushing a deeper shade. Down below he tried to bring his thighs inwards, but the Sheriff casually pushed them back apart. Rage boiling under his skin, Bobby snarled- despite his helpless position. “You son of a bitch, I swear to god if you touch me again I’ll…” He quaked in impotent anger.

Taylor shrugged and huffed. “You’ll do what, exactly?” Bobby didn’t have an answer for that, glaring back at the Sheriff’s taunting smile.

The sudden sound of the door opening was almost deafening.


	3. Appetizer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a moment of hope, but things get even worse for Bobby. He continues to be defiant, but hardened as he is, he finally begins to crack.

For a fleeting moment Bobby’s heart jumped watching the opening for a familiar face- a chance of rescue. The breath caught in his throat when a stranger walked in- a tall, younger brutish fellow with a shaved head and angry blue eyes. He was another officer- his badge gleaming just like the monstrous, toothy grin he flashed when his eyes met Bobby’s. More footsteps followed. A younger, lankier man with black hair and darker skin. A wide, portly fellow in his middle age- chin and cheeks clad in a full beard. The procession continued- all uniformed officers- deep, masculine voices chuckling and joking in low tones. When the last of the group entered, he shut the door behind himself. From Bobby’s position he had had a good view of the door- at least seven officers had come through. Counting Sheriff Taylor- and the two men holding him down- that made at least 10 officers packed in the tiny, sweltering room. 10 Leviathans against one beaten, restrained hunter...

The Sheriff cleared his throat, turning away from Bobby and addressing the group- who had arranged themselves along the outer wall for the time being. They pointedly made sure not to block the view from the mirror. “Now, like we went over. We need to save the best bits for the last part of the video- so keep the biting to a minimum. Don’t go spoiling your dinner now, boys.” He chuckled menacingly. There were similar chuckles from the officers, their hungry eyes sizing up their prey in anticipation.

Bobby’s face bared his own teeth in a savage, defiant scowl as he realized what was happening. There was more panic than bravery there unfortunately, revealed by his heaving chest and rapid breathing. Again, Taylor let the moment hang in the air- letting Bobby feel all those ravenous, lecherous stares focusing on his prone, stripped body. Dazedly, the tightness left the hunter’s face as realization set in, his eyes growing wide as his nerve faltered. He started to shake his head in disbelief, a sudden vertigo sending the room spinning as his brain tried to reject the reality it was taking in. Taylor stepped closer once more, “…Now let’s show our guest a warm welcome.”

With that the Sheriff tore open Bobby’s boxers, eliciting a startled sob from the old man. The monster glanced down and perked his brow when the old hunter’s balls and erect penis slumped free. Stepping back, he grabbed and forced Bobby’s legs wider- angling the man’s hips so the camera behind the glass could get a clearer shot. “…Well what do we have here? Whaddaya think boys? That’s at least seven inches there? Not bad for an old timer… And uncut to boot! I guess we know what part of him we should keep for the trophy rack.” That quip drew mean chuckles from the officers- the indignity and horror of that idea causing Bobby to tremble angrily. His thick length quivered as he tensed, shamefully standing tall for all to see.

The Sheriff’s right hand reached down and grabbed the firm cock around the shaft with painful force- thumb tracing circles around the foreskin and slowly pushing it back. Bobby sobbed through his clenched teeth- thrashing his head to the side in anguish. The strong fingers squeezed with almost bruising pressure- stroking up past the plump, rounded tip then down to the curled, wiry bunch of pubic hair at the base. “Looks like you don’t mind this too much at all Bobby…” Taylor’s hand crept down to cup and fondle the hunter’s balls- fingers rudely petting and stroking down to his taint below. “Can’t imagine a fella like you gets much action these days, maybe goin’ out with a ‘bang’ might not be so bad after all? Cheer up would ya? Show your costars a smile…” He brought his hand up to the hunter’s face, grabbing his jaw forcefully back towards the group. Bobby’s face was pulled in an ugly, desperate glare- brow furrowed in helpless rage- face red from strain and humiliation.

Through clenched teeth, Bobby’s voice snarled in a bitter, poisonous tone. His eyes locked with Taylor’s- fired up with a last spark of defiance. “Go to hell.”

The Sheriff snorted, returning the hunter’s gaze and bending close to his face- his voice lowering to a cold whisper. “The only hell we’ll be seein’ is the one we’re about to put you through.” He moved in closer, the breath from his nostrils hot on Bobby’s cheek. “It’s cute. This little stubborn streak of yours. It doesn’t matter if we break you or not. You’re not gettin’ any older than tomorrow old man. We’re gonna enjoy eating you- and when we’re done, we’re gonna eat everyone you’ve ever said hello to.”

With that Taylor abruptly backed away- motioning for the others to move in. Unable to suppress the instinct, Bobby roared and wrenched his arms- bruising himself as he tried to pull out of the two deputies’ grip. He recoiled to his left as he felt a pair of hands groping him from the right- cupping his chest and stroking over his skin, following the pattern of his old scars they found there. It was futile though, as another pair of hands came from his left- grabbing lecherously at his side- reaching down to give his thigh a bit of a slap. He twisted but more hands came down to grab and stroke and touch.

The old man hadn’t ever suffered that kind of violation before. The monsters he’d fought would always want to bite and tear- if they were smarter they would look to hurt or maim. This kind of touch was different- these monsters were showing measured restraint. He knew any of those hands could easily dig in and rip him apart- but they instead caressed, grabbed, and petted- the man’s body a new toy that they were being careful not to break. They’d slap and jab at him to hear him yelp, pinch him to make him spasm, and stroke and caress him all over to find the places that made him strain to keep from moaning. His arms were suddenly released as the deputies by his head reached in to hold his head back- nails and fingertips ruffling his beard like they were petting a dog- their faces grinning with a wicked hunger as they stared down at him.

With his arms free he roared again and lashed out with all his remaining strength. His fists swung out haphazardly- slamming his knuckles into the deputies he could reach. Legs and feet kicked out viciously, connecting with a gut here, a ribcage there. As his hits landed, they’d resonate with loud, solid thuds. If his opponents had been human he’d have at least shoved some of the assailants off him- maybe even broken a bone or two. Hard as his impacts were though, he didn’t budge any of the deputies at all. It was like beating at stone statues. Tauntingly, his wrists were pressed back down, his feet grabbed and lifted high to more lewdly display his ass. Bobby started to panic outright- using up more of his dwindling energy as he frantically writhed and thrashed.

“AGGGHHHHH!!!!” Bobby’s voice came out as a harsh, uneven yell, his gruff, deep voice hitching here and there with intermittent sobs. The sound echoed in the small room- no doubt loud enough to be heard elsewhere in the station- not that that mattered though. After all that struggling, his exhausted body started to fall limp- his desperate writhing completely ignored by the group as they continued to fondle him. Hardly able to put up any force at all- he still gripped and braced, trying to push back and away, shaking his head in impotent anguish. “Get. Off. Of. Me…! I’m gonna kill you. Every single fuckin’ one of you.” His words and protests were broken by gasps and choked yelps as he was overwhelmed.

Rough fingers stroked and pulled at his sensitive nipples- the forced pleasure giving way to arcing pain as his assailants then pinched and twisted- savoring the strangled sobs they’d elicit from the helpless hunter. No place on his body was spared from those insidious hands. Fingers forced his mouth open and rudely pried and pressed at his tongue and teeth. Others stroked down his underarms and sides- the insides of his thighs- even the soles of his feet- catching him off guard with jolts of uneasy warmth and tingling sensation. His cock and balls only received intermittent attention though- an odd stroke here and there, a painful slap or yank. Tears started to form at the corner of Bobby’s eyes as he felt his erection starting to get sore- despite all his suffering he was still solidly hard.  

The Sheriff’s voice rumbled menacingly as he addressed the group again- his hand reaching down to grip the man’s pulsing erection. “He’s lovin’ it fellas… Who knew this poor old bastard would be such a pervert. I think he’s startin’ to want it…  Wonder how many times he’ll pop off before we’re done here…” Chuckling, he grabbed Bobby’s chin with his free hand, forcing him to watch as he finally showed his true form. He grinned and winked before his stalwart jaw unnaturally pulsated and slipped down far lower than any human’s ever could. Though the rest of him remained relatively normal- his teeth extended and grew several lengths, his true tongue lashing out nearly a full foot from his chin. He continued to grin with that horrific maw before lowering himself down between the hunter’s legs.

“N-no… NO!!” Bobby’s nerve faltered again as he braced for where those teeth would sink into him- his head was released so he could look down at himself- and no doubt so the camera could capture his expression. The monstrous Sheriff crouched down between Bobby’s raised legs- his tongue flinging thick spittle and saliva over the insides of his vulnerable thighs. He struck down suddenly- causing Bobby to buck in terror.

 


	4. Main Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Bobby falters, the monsters press their advantage. Tough as he is, it's all he can do to withstand and survive their horrible assault.

Taylor showed great care to keep his teeth away, but his wet, hot tongue lashed almost like a whip into the old man’s cleft. The sensation forced Bobby into a stretch of choking sobs- his voice crackling as he had to hold back a whorish moan. The rest of the groping and touching continued as Taylor’s tongue worked- swinging and pressing over Bobby’s ass- thoroughly slathering saliva over his balls, taint, and anus. It was too much, his gaze growing hazy as he struggled for coherent thought. His fingers and toes clenched hard as that tongue started to work more dexterously, stroking and lapping over his hole- jabbing into him ever so slightly. Conscious of the sensations he was forcing on the hunter, the Sheriff varied his pace- changing his direction and pressure as his tongue dragged and pulled over the slickened, sensitive ring. Reaching in with his hands, he pulled Bobby’s cleft wider as he pressed his full maw in- making sure to press the full roughness of his tongue against the old man’s hole, his razor-sharp teeth leaving shallow, painful cuts in Bobby’s thighs. Awash in dizzying sensation, Bobby hovered at the edge of consciousness, only barely registering the sound of Taylor unzipping his uniform pants.

Dazed as he was, Bobby easily knew what to expect next. “D-don’t…” He could hardly get the words from between his clenched teeth, his voice quaking with quiet anger and desperation. Taylor shifted to the side, making sure to give the cameras full view. Bobby’s breath caught in his throat as he saw his reflection in the mirror- the soles of his socked feet high in the air- his thighs whorishly spread and open- his hole dripping and shining under the monster’s thick spit. Just under his anguished face, past the groping hands, his cock was still rock hard- his body betraying him even as his mind desperately tried to reject and resist.

The Sheriff’s own erection bobbed and swelled as he gripped it by the base. He smiled in satisfaction- his voice cheerful and mocking. “These primitive pleasures you humans indulge in ain’t half bad. This was all supposed to be just for show but I’m really starting to have some fun here, Bobby. Shame we can’t keep you longer- but I guess there’s a whole other 7 billion of you we can sort through anyhow.” His voice lowered as he pressed his length against Bobby’s cleft, stroking his purplish tip teasingly up and down over the old hunter’s tight opening. “Now, let’s kick things up a notch…”

“UNNAGGGHHHHH!!” Bobby screamed as Taylor shoved in without warning or concern for the man’s pain. His head lolled back as he was overwhelmed again, his gaze growing blank as the Sheriff savagely started to slam into him. Though the monster certainly knew about human coitus from the memories he’d absorbed from the real Jim Taylor, he didn’t seem to care to emulate any of the gentler aspects. His thrusting was brutal and forceful- the violence for now staving off the Leviathan’s natural instinct to maul and eat the old man. The surging pain arcing through Bobby’s abdomen was too much even for his hardened nerve- his voice choked and crackled as he was dazed for several moments- the feelings of horrible anguish and violation delayed in his mind. It only came crashing down on him when the agony finally started to give way.

True to what one might expect of him, Bobby had never been fucked before. The only attention he got “back there” was pretty much just during his prostate exams with his doctor. As such he couldn’t withstand the violent assault- a rivulet of blood slowly thickened and spread from his torn anus- streaking down his cleft as the monster continued to mercilessly slam into him. 

As his awareness returned he sobbed again in realization that the other monsters had unleashed their tongues like the Sheriff had- and instead of working at his body with their hands they were licking and lapping at him- savoring the salty taste of his sweat and skin. They whipped and smacked at his nipples- writhing over the firm buds- leaving a glossy wet sheen over his chest hair. By now they’d started giving his cock proper attention- tongues curling around the thick, pulsing length- tips even threatening to venture down into the generously leaking slit. Down below, more of the wet lengths lapped and squeezed at Bobby’s vulnerable balls- occasionally giving them a good slap to make the hunter cry out. Careful as they were, they couldn’t help but nick Bobby with their jagged rows of teeth- leaving shallow, painful cuts all over the man’s torso and limbs. Meanwhile, the brutal force of the Sheriff’s thrusting had numbed him some- his aches and pains finally starting to dull, replaced by an overwhelming and unfamiliar feeling of warmth and fullness surging up from inside him. His voice caught in his throat- toes clenching then locking spread as the new sensation sent a radiating heat through his entire body.

“NGH..h.hg.hh…AGGGGHHH!!!” Bobby came abruptly- his voice suddenly peaking as he threw his head back. In the mess of writhing hands, arms and tongues- his violently bobbing cock pulsed and shot out a thick, cloudy load- arcing back and spattering amongst the sweat and saliva coating his heaving, hairy belly and chest. The musky smell of his semen mingled with the odors of sweat and blood in the air, sending the creatures into a frenzy. Once again, Bobby braced to be torn apart when they lunged in to lap up the salty, bitter cum. He sobbed as he suffered more and more cuts- along with aching bruises as they jabbed their fingers into his limbs and sides. After greedily lapping up the very last drop, they continued working the old man’s body even more fervently- his back arching and limbs quivering as they caressed his cock and nipples through his afterglow- sending him into short spasms of pain as they overstimulated him. They never stopped or let up, and within moments Bobby was fully erect again.

Taylor smiled and canted his head, showing no signs of exertion as his hips cruelly worked his hips like a piston, hilting into Bobby’s hole with a fast, violent rhythm. “Hard again so quickly? You really are having a good time, aren’t you, old man? With this kind of endurance, you’d be a natural for the camera… Probably more money in porn than hunting too… Less workplace hazards too. Hindsight’s 20/20, eh?” Tears ran down the Bobby’s face as was taunted, his own face twisted and enraged like a wounded animal’s- his mind freefalling into a dark blackness as he imagined his friends and family having to watch all of this.

The Sheriff’s assault continued for several more minutes before he came inside Bobby with little to no fanfare. With just a deeper curl to his smirk and a final, brutal thrust that shook the table, the monster shot his load deep in the old hunter. Bobby writhed- his limbs going taut in surprise and disgust as he felt that sudden warm jolt inside him- caught off guard by the sheer force of it, as well as the amount that seemed to fill him up. The Sheriff lingered a moment before pulling out- revealing his load to be a horrific, inky black- just like the Leviathans had looked themselves when they had escaped into the water supply. Gouts of the fluid coated the Sheriff’s length- spattering over the hunter’s groin and cleft as gobs of it oozed from the battered hole.

Finally, Bobby’s numbed ass was allowed to slump down- his head stretching back, his mouth open in quivering gasps as he felt that fullness leaving him. The force and duration of Taylor’s assault had left his hole brutally bruised and gaping. The tongues and hands working him finally eased off some- allowing him some clarity- enough for him to feel the full weight of what was happening again. He couldn’t vocalize, instead he just shook his head weakly. _Not like this…_ He would’ve been brave to the end in any other manner of horrible end, maybe even if he’d had to suffer it alone- but not under so many eyes, not with the knowledge that the monsters were going to keep parts of him as a grim trophy. At least it seemed to be ending, before long they’d grow bored and finally do him in. The attack had lasted nearly an hour already.

His expression froze when Taylor stepped aside, and another one of the deputies started to move in to take his place.

“UNNAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The next monster wasn’t any gentler than Taylor. As Bobby thrashed when he was penetrated again, the others joined in again, working back up to their frenzied pace. It was a horrific blur- Bobby’s consciousness ebbing in and out as he was overwhelmed again and again. It was getting to the point that every few stretches he’d blank out and go numb- only brought back by sudden jolts of pain- or from the sparking warmth of his own orgasms. He was limp and twitching- hardly able to yell or scream anymore as each monster took his turn. During one of the clearer moments, the deputies took advantage of Bobby’s weakness to angle his head to the side and shift him on the table. He quivered and shook his head weakly- reddened, tear streaked eyes angling into a hard, desperate glare. He was facing one of the deputies’ crotches- who promptly unzipped and dropped his cock rudely on Bobby’s bearded cheek. Without further warning he thrust into the old man’s mouth. Bobby’s sob was cut off by a choking cough. His eyes widened and blanked as his face was pounded. His fingers and toes clenched painfully as he struggled to keep breathing- the monster’s cruel length brutally shoving down into his throat. More tears streaked his cheeks and beard as he started to taste the Leviathan’s bitter, black ooze in his mouth. Just to keep his windpipe clear, he was forced to swallow it.

The group didn’t stop for several hours.

By then Bobby had blacked out several times- for brief moments taken out of his hellish torment. During those fleeting stretches of unconsciousness, he’d have some peace. He’d be with his Karen, listening to her hum as she cooked dinner. He’d be celebrating a hunt with Sam and Dean, piling up the beer bottles on the coffee table as the night went on. Or he’d just be in his house, quietly researching lore and working the phones- doing his part to keep the darkness at bay. Those breaks made everything worse than he could have ever imagined.

Every time he’d snap back as if falling into a nightmare- his numbness gone and his helpless body free to feel everything clearly once more- his ass aching and violently quivering as he was getting driven into, his jaw growing sore as yet another beast fucked his throat. All through that the others didn’t let up either- some tongues licking and wrapping around his cock, others pressing into his skin and savoring his flavor and scent from head to toe.

 In the end they’d forced the old hunter to cum at least 8 times, but it was hard to keep count of his actual orgasms- they’d gotten him off several times long after he’d had nothing left to shoot- and it was hard to pick out the piques from the rest of his groans and cries. As the hours passed, the black ooze started to pool on the table and floor- dripping down from Bobby’s stretched, battered anus, and his gaping mouth whenever he was given a few moments to fight to breathe. Bobby was fully unconscious when they finally finished. He lay slumped and broken on the floor- black ooze running down his chin and over his chest, as well as down his thighs. Somewhere along the line they’d tied his tie over his eyes as a blindfold- his tattered shirt and undershirt sticking to his frame by threads. After he lost consciousness his bladder released, his urine pooling among the other puddles between his legs- yet one more horrible indignity, but at least one he hadn’t been awake to suffer. Along with that acrid pang, the air was thick with the odors of sweat, semen, and blood. 

The group filed out of the room- their voices returning to their human personas as if nothing had happened. They cleaned up and changed in the barracks, then went back to their posts- running the police station as usual. The Sheriff lingered though, smiling and chuckling quietly as paced the room, admiring the group’s handiwork from several angles. He made sure to turn back to the mirror and smile- crouching beside the soaked, bloody, bruised body as if he was a game hunter that’d just landed a prize buck.

 


	5. Dessert (*Warning, gore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having survived through the evening, Bobby wakes up in an unfamiliar place. It's time to finish out the night's meal, and the Leviathans make sure he's present to enjoy dessert with them. 
> 
>  
> 
> ****(Warning: Though short, this is the darkest chapter and contains the most explicit gore and horror elements. Proceed at your own discretion.)****

When Bobby woke up again, it was dark and cold. For a moment he wondered if he was dead already- but unfortunately the surging aches from every muscle in his body indicated he was still alive- if just barely. His mouth was full of a horrible bitter and salty taste. He couldn’t move his legs- the pain from his anus and thighs forcing him to be still. When he groaned he found his throat choked, dry and sore. When he finally got his eyes open, he looked down at himself. His body and the tattered remains of his shirt and underwear were matted with dried blood, semen, and saliva- their odors mingling with the odors of his own sweat and urine. Finding himself too weak to sit up, he painfully shifted his neck to look around.

The walls were dimly lit and bluish. Metal panels covered the end of the wall- dull and slightly reflective. He was lying on something cold and metal as well- its legs creaking under what little movements he managed. It wasn’t the table from before, it was long enough for his legs and feet to rest on. Before long he realized he was in the police station’s morgue, on one of the autopsy tables.

 When he’d turned to his side he noticed the deputies that had raped him where all around. They looked impatient, as if they’d been waiting for him to wake up. As Bobby’s vision continued to clear he noticed a camera to his side setup on a tripod- as well as Sheriff Taylor, making some final adjustments to its settings.

Taylor sidled up to the table, patting Bobby’s cheek with a cruel, mocking gentleness. “Looks like our guest has finally arrived boys.” He leaned in, grinning as if he could hardly contain himself, his voice low and menacing directly into Bobby’s ear- uncomfortably close. “Don’t worry Bobby, we wouldn’t start dinner without you.” The deputies started to close in, each at their own spot around the table.

With that he pressed his hand over the old man’s bearded maw. This time Bobby’s voice was hardly audible. There weren’t any visions of past loved ones- no flashing of his life before his eyes. It was sudden, brutal, violent and most of all painful. The old hunter’s head thrashed as he sobbed and screamed into the Sheriff’s grip. From all directions the gathered Leviathans started to tear into his vulnerable, naked body with frenzied hunger- rending flesh from bone and scattering blood and viscera in all directions. A bloody sock-clad foot thumped down from the table into the growing pool of gore below- followed by several wet slaps as a length of intestine fell as well. Of course, these morsels were eventually picked up- none of the old man going to waste. After a cruel, horrible few minutes, the last tension in Bobby’s neck released, and his eyes faded. The last glimmer of his vision was Taylor’s jaws closing in on his face.

 

 

 It was another lazy afternoon in the Dell Rapids police station. The air conditioning, now repaired, droned on as the officers went about their daily business. Sheriff Jim Taylor sat at his desk, casually eyeing the screen of his desktop workstation. He was finalizing some e-mails with his higher ups. The letter on the screen was rather long and full of the usual workplace politicking, but the gist of it was that the previous day’s meeting with the visiting Federal Agent had gone quite well. Satisfied with both the letter and himself, he sent it off with an almost theatrically decisive click. With how well things had gone, he was sure he’d be getting a good bump on his performance review.

Finished with that, he reached down to the side of his keyboard. There he thumbed at the pair of wallets on his desk, flipping them open. One contained an FBI ID and badge. The ID bore a picture of an aged, bearded and balding man- face drawn into a dignified scowl. The name read ”John Maclane”. He rolled his eyes before turning to the other wallet, eyeing the driver’s license inside. It featured the same man, but he was smiling in that photo. He was dressed in a blue and white trucker hat and a plaid shirt. The name read Robert Steven Singer. Further to the side of those items was a more grotesque and horrifying piece. It was a preserving jar filled with embalming fluid- the same used to keep frogs in for later dissection. Suspended in the fluid was a flaccid human penis- soft, limp, and wrinkled with a full foreskin. Delicate brown hairs curled around the base where it had been cleanly severed- the scrotum and testicles carefully kept intact as well.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in. You’re right on time!” The Sheriff’s voice was bright and cheerful as he looked up as the door opened. That same man from the driver’s license was standing there- dressed the same as well- down to the hat and the pattern of his shirt.

“Ready to head out. Though I wish I could use a company car for this one, that Chevelle of his stinks to high hell. Full of trash too. Oh, and here's the copies you asked for.” He reached down to the crook of his arm where he'd been carrying a neat stack of dvd discs- laying the pile next to the documents on the desk. Curiously, he didn’t bat an eye at the horrific contents of the jar, even though it was in plain sight.

Taylor smiled brightly as he patted the stack of discs. "Great! I'll have Phil get ready to mail these out, I'm sure our little home movie's gonna be a hit." Turning to his side, he slid both wallets over to the man, who pocketed them in his jeans. With a curt nod, he turned to leave. “Just one more thing before you go.” The man paused and glanced back. “Happy hunting out there, _Bobby_.”

“Yeah, yeah…” The man pulled his cap down over his worn brow, rubbing at his beard as he couldn’t suppress a gleaming, toothy grin.

 

 

 


End file.
